


After the Rain

by The_White_Rabbit42



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, former hunter reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-28 21:49:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10840137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_White_Rabbit42/pseuds/The_White_Rabbit42
Summary: When the weather gets in the way of something Gabriel needs to do, you remind him he has everything he needs right at home.





	After the Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Written for @becaamm to add a little fluff to her life.  
> Written using April's @gabriel-monthly-challenge statement prompt: 
> 
> He stared out the window, silently cursing the rain that was pouring from the sky and ruining all of his grand plans for the day.

**He stared out the window, silently cursing the rain that was pouring from the sky and ruining all of his grand plans for the day.** It wasn’t just any day.  Today was  _ the  _ day.  The one where he desperately needed everything to fall into place.  As usual, the universe refused to cooperate, causing the thread of what made him an archangel to begin to fray, drawing a little more of the innate, primordial being to the surface.  

 

That was how you found him, staring out the sliding glass door to the deck, glowering fire and brimstone down upon the first gloriously sunny day you’d had all week.  

 

“Uh, Gabe?”  You’d sounded confused and more than a little wary, though the caution your words carried wasn’t the kind where you recognized the inherent danger in him.  It was where you wondered if he hadn’t somehow slipped out, drank a liquor store in your absence, and now you were going to have to keep him entertained or spend the rest of the day hiding the existence of Sparkle Fingers (his drunk alter ego aptly named for his tendency to zap things indiscriminately) from the rest of suburbia.  

 

Unbeknownst to you, what he was looking at was halfway across the world and under the threat of taking on some serious water.  Sure, he could snap his fingers and there’d be clear skies again, but it was one thing to clear up a little rain storm and completely another to wipe out a category four typhoon.  The latter might draw a little more attention than he hoped considering he was technically still in hiding.  Though that was mostly from the Winchesters at  _ your  _ insistence since the Brothers Grimm had already gotten you both respectively killed during the apocalypse.

 

Gabriel hadn’t argued considering how painful it had been resurrecting you once, not to mention how nearly devastating to most of North America. 

 

“Is something wrong?” You continued when he didn’t respond.  He turned, forcing himself to rein in his vexation as he made an attempt at a convincing smile.  The excuse he gave sounded hollow to his own ears, though his tongue was more talented with those than the even weaker attempt at reassurance that followed.  The way you continued to regard him like you were trying to remember where you kept the holy oil suggested he hadn’t been very successful.  

 

The joke was on you.  There wasn’t a single drop of the stuff left on the property after the last stunt you pulled, no matter how justified you’d been using it.   

 

Eventually, you had wandered back out, leaving him to figure out just what he was supposed to do about his dilemma.

 

He thought about changing locations, but it would be too risky.  He’d studied this place from every angle, knew the surrounding terrain, and had run through every potential complication in his mind.  Well, all save one, apparently.  Regardless, there was never a good contingency plan for Mother Nature when she came out in full force.  

 

No, it needed to be there.  Too much depended on it, which just meant it couldn’t be today.  Except it  _ had  _ to be today.  He’d sat on the knowledge for weeks now, letting it grow heavy with mounting urgency until it had erupted in a fever pitch, threatening the serenity of everything you two had worked so hard to build.  

 

He was at a standstill, and if something didn't give, he wouldn’t be moving anytime soon. 

 

“Brought you something,” your voice broke through his thoughts and as before he’d been too caught up to hear you approaching.  Your instincts were still sharp, though it had been years since you’d quit hunting, and this time you were waiting in the doorway for him.  

 

His eyes fell to the plate in your hand and the smell of warm sugar and cinnamon wafted in with your approach.  How he had missed you baking his favorite cookies was beyond him, considering last time that had happened, he had smelled them clear across the neighborhood.

 

As you stopped in front of him, his eyes weren’t on the treats you offered but solely on you.  He realized he’d been so preoccupied lately the only exchange the two of you had since breakfast yesterday was when you wandered in earlier.  It was uncommon to go this long without having some meaningful interaction since the two of you had decided to try being “normal.”

 

Well, you were pretending to be normal.  Gabriel was just doing his best not to do anything that would make you have to move again.  

 

Today there were traces of the past lingering beneath your eyes.  The dark circles were a reminder of just how poorly you slept without him there and guilt gave a hearty nudge somewhere near his spleen when he realized he had never made it to bed last night.  Patience laced the weary smile you gave him, suggesting you’d probably drop from exhaustion before ever mentioning it to him.  Your need to protect him in ways he never considered had his frustration fading.  

 

He reached out, tenderly erasing a streak of flour that ran across your forehead from where your fingers had tried to keep your hair out of your face and failed.  A halo of strands framed your face, falling from where you had them haphazardly secured at the back of your head.  Now that he was the only being you had to worry about tugging on your hair, you’d let it grow out and he had a sudden urge to see it.  He reached for the tie, gently freeing y/h/c until it tumbled past your shoulders, giving you a tousled look that normally put all sorts of unwholesome thoughts into his head.  

 

Today, it simply reminded him of how lucky he was.  

 

He took the plate from your hands, setting it on a nearby stand before drawing you against him.  Even the feel of your body was different.  Intentional or not, the Winchesters had a way of draining people dry before leaving a (normally dead) husk in their wake and while you were with them you were in a constant state of agitated survival.  You lived every moment wondering when the next enemy would round the corner, knowing the moment you let your guard down it would likely be your last.  

 

Now, there was nothing but a calm that came from knowing you didn’t have to worry about anything hurting you anymore. There was a contentment from letting go of the need to chase that next case, to save just one more person before you could even consider thinking of yourself.  The two of you were able to connect in a way he never thought possible because you were both so relaxed knowing the only world whose fate either of you had to worry about was each others’.  

 

He brought his lips to yours, liking the low hum of appreciation you gave in response.  There was no more need for urgent, impassioned kisses as if they might be the last ones you shared and he found he preferred the series of slow, gentle ones he stole in quiet moments like these.  His hands slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, splaying across your lower back.  His fingertips drank in the smoothness of your skin, reminding him of how the only scars acquired since your resurrection had been through far more ordinary means.  

 

He never thought he could be content with what always seemed like such a mind-numbing existence, day in, day out the same routine, buying groceries, mowing the lawn, fixing leaks  _ without _ snapping his fingers, only to have to go back and do it all again.  There was safety in simplicity, however, and a greater depth of joy than he had known in quite some time.  

 

Then again, that may have had more to do with you being  along for the ride than the ride itself.   Regardless, he never thought he could be content with the “mundane”.  Once again, you’d gone and surprised him and it was exactly why he needed to follow through with his plan sooner rather than later.  

 

He finally drew back, a rare smile touching lips as he allowed all these sentiments to come soaring to the surface.  

 

“You know how much I love you, right?”  Impulsivity sparked a question he hadn’t realized just how much he needed the answer to until the words had left his mouth.  He suddenly needed you to understand just how much you enriched his existence in a way he never thought possible and he needed it to happen right now.

 

Whispers of the past echoed through the present in a startling and sudden shift that had shadows casting over your features.  They brought with it a familiar, manic edge that lined the borders of y/e/c, hinting at the panic that flared in a vibrant flash of emotions that were better left buried.  

 

“Don’t do it,” you whispered, barely able to breath life to words he could tell you desperately wished you didn’t need to.  “Whatever it is, you don't need to do it.”

 

The vehemence rising swiftly within your tone almost left him speechless.  Had you somehow known where he’d been going all this time? How could you when he had been so careful to ensure you were always at work when he left?

 

“Is it the Winchesters?” You demanded, anger burning bright and dangerous.  “Did they find you?”

 

_ Him _ .  Everything was focused solely on Gabriel to the point it had an ache blooming deep within his chest.  He had hoped a quieter life would tame that blinding need to protect those around you.  If anything, it had only made it grow more fierce.  

 

“It’s not them,” he reassured, stepping back and taking your hands into his.  He didn't know how to explain things to you, not without giving everything away.  It wasn’t until he felt the fear buzzing through your system that he realized even the snap of his fingers couldn’t calm the storm gathering in the darks of your eyes.

 

Today  _ was  _ the day and it was happening right here whether he wanted it to or not.  

 

This was exactly why he did whatever struck him in his current mood rather than attempting to plan ahead.    

 

A dizzying bout of nervousness rushed through his system as he realized this was it.  The way his heart hammered against his vessel was disconcerting.  He couldn’t remember it doing that in what had to have been centuries.  He’d forgotten how loud his pulse became and how off kilter it made him feel being acutely aware not only of his heart rate but suddenly of everything about him.    

 

“Just tell me,” you insisted, determination rallying your  strength and resolve as you prepared yourself for the worst.  “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.   _ Together _ .”

 

Your declaration brought out a blinding moment of clarity.  He’d been wrong.  He didn’t need the tropical island.  He didn’t need the magnificent ocean view at sunrise.  All he needed was you to tell him you’d be by his side no matter what came along. 

 

“Marry me?” He asked, his tone quiet with a touch of tenderness as he flashed you a tentative smile.  Everything in your gaze stilled as you continued to stare at him.  You seemed to forget how to breathe, let alone blink and it took a minute before your chest rose again.  Your lashes fluttered once.  Twice.  A third had your brow arching clear to your hairline.

 

“You serious this time?”  You questioned, seeming to have recovered.

 

Exasperation seeped in in the wake of his fading anxiety.  Ok.  He might have deserved that.  In his defense, however, only  _ one  _ of the times you were referring to had actually been a joke.  The other he’d been _ wholly _ serious (though also wholly inebriated). 

 

“Third time’s a charm?”  For the love of his father, why was that suddenly a question?  Where was the archangel in him now when he could use a little absoluteness?

 

“Is this why you’ve been acting strange?”  You asked, hope sparking beneath the question in a way that had sentiments squeezing tighter around his heart.  

 

“Yes,” he promised, eager to reassure you that what you both had was not under threat.  His patience on the other hand, might have been a different story as nerves renewed their jarring thrum the longer he waited for your answer.  

 

You let out a slow breath, relief easing the tension that had crept into your frame.  

 

“I’ll take it into consideration,” you replied, as if he were asking you to change the color of the curtains than make a lifelong commitment to him.  His brows raised in disbelief, unable to bridge the discrepancy between who you had been just one minute ago and your sudden indifference to a incredibly important matter.  

 

“You’ll take it into consideration?” He demanded, hands moving to his hips.  “Are  _ you _ seri-uufff--” you shoved a cookie into his mouth, cutting him off with a burst of delectableness that almost had him moaning.

 

How you baked such heavenly creations without a touch of divinity in you was beyond him.   

 

“Of course I’ll marry you, chuckles.  I just figured I owed  _ you _ some sweat and heart palpitations for once,” you said dryly.  He froze, mouth stopping mid-chew.  He had run all the variables for both the situation and your personality, carefully mapping every potential response he could receive from you in hopes of calculating the chances you would accept. 

 

He never imagined you’d end up being just as much of a smart-ass as he was.  

 

He also never imagined it would be so  _ hot.  _

 

There was nothing gentle about the way his mouth came down this time, his lips searing over yours, unable to get enough of the taste of you on his tongue.  The moan you gave was decadent, drawing him further beneath the waters of desire as your fingers raked through his hair.  

 

“You have ten seconds to make it to the bedroom,” he warned, forcing himself to release you.  

 

“Or what?”  You challenged, eyes glinting playfully.  

 

He leaned forward again, nose grazing yours as his voice dropped to a sensual husk, “Or I’m going to take you against that sliding glass door and give our neighbors the show of their lifetime.”

 

Considering you were pulling his hands back on you before you even started moving, you were lucky you didn’t end up revealing anything that would give you no choice but to pack up and leave yet another neighborhood behind.  


End file.
